If We Never Go Back to Hogwarts
by darkmark111
Summary: Harry and Draco are stuck in a duplex in Romania for the summer. They began to grow closer, then learn of a scheme Lucius is cooking up involving Voldemort. It will threaten everything they've been and all they're working towards, and death looms still...
1. Chapter 1

If We Never Go Back to Hogwarts

Chapter 1

Without Hope or Agenda

Harry sat at Privet Drive, sweating from the temperature. It was at least ninety degrees. Compared to the cool breeze of Hogwarts, this was hell. Pure and untainted hell. He sighed. Would his life ever get any better?

Outside, he watched children play. They were so innocent, these Muggle children, laughing and screaming and basking in their undaunted ignorance. Harry wished that for just a moment he was one of them, playing their games and learning their ways. They were interesting…they were like a separate species.

He pondered that for a bit, then laid his head on the desk and drifted in and out of a hazy, fragile rest. A million thoughts skimmed his subconscious, some of Sirius, some of parents, some even of Draco Malfoy. He groaned, unhappy with the face of the sneering, blonde boy in his mind's eye. He fumbled around and cried out but all within the borders of his own dream land. He struggled but only in vain. He was trapped under the fountain of visions spouting from the underbelly of his soul.

Suddenly, he felt his fingers grasp hold of the ink pen that had been lying on his desk. He knew he was writing, but what, and why? He moaned again, hopeful that he might soon gain control. He didn't even know what was going on. He felt paralyzed, let he could feel his body moving all around him, and his heart was in limbo and all his conscious thoughts were overturned by this new and exciting force running through his nerves and muscles and to his palm, this urge to write whatever this force was compelling him to etch.

Slowly, he began to rise from the desk and open his eyes. Parchment stuck awkwardly to his cheek and, in a mad frenzy, he ripped it off and threw the ink pen out the window. Then, with shaking hands, he picked up the piece of paper that he had so unwilling inked on and began to read.

_What fear might I have_

_Were I to kiss _

_The pink rose petals_

_That are your lips?_

_What nerve_

_Might I possess_

_If I were to remove_

_All that you dress in?_

_What love might I have_

_If I swept you away_

_Into a kiss_

_And take you were I lay?_

_What might I admit_

_When inside me sun shines_

_And you are there behind me_

_An angel, so divine?_

_What love might I share_

_With you, Draco Dear,_

_When you will stand there_

_And I will stand here? _

That was it. Harry slapped the paper on the desk and clawed at it with his own fingernails. This wasn't real. Why had he written this, of all things? A poem of love to Draco Malfoy? It made no sense, no sense at all. He nearly screamed, then remembered where he was and bit his hand instead. This meant nothing. It had to mean nothing. It certainly didn't mean something.

Sighing, he crumpled the paper and tossed it under his bed. As he gazed out the window at the now setting sun, he wondered what had just happened to him.

Draco Malfoy sat on the roof of his mansion, breathing heavily. All that running was going to kill him one day. Perhaps he should just kill his father instead. Yes, that was a spectacular plan. What would he use? A knife, morning star (his father had some under the drawing room), a sword, or perhaps something even deadlier?

He smirked at the idea of murdering his father. It would give him such pleasure, such satisfaction to be rid of the bastard forever. He hated him. All the scars on his back, the bruises on his arms, all were from Lucius Malfoy. His father always said it was his fault, because he chose the olive branch over the Malfoy crest…

But that was an entirely different story. He glanced at the moon, the sickly pale orb. This place, this earth, it sickened him. He longed to be somewhere where human things could not reach him, where he was isolated and happy about it.

The only answer he could think of was nonexistence, meaning death.

Well, his father had already threatened that.

He sighed rather loudly. These stars told a story, he knew. But which? One of a happy ending, or a sad one? He sighed again. What was life worth in this world but perhaps hunger and deprivation?

Draco really didn't like having such morbid thoughts all the time, but he couldn't help it. His lifestyle didn't really contribute to happy thoughts. He pondered this all while gazing into the Milky Way, wondering how the balance of his life had come to be.

He remembered the story vaguely. He had been two. His father had come home from work, pissed about something. His mother was screaming. He knew there had been a child before him, but it had died. They never talked about it. His father approached the Malfoy toddler, looking menacing, a horrible glint in his eyes. He had retrieved from the pocket of his coat an olive branch and the original Malfoy crest. Draco, curious, reached for the olive branch. It was by that and that alone that his father judged him. Somehow, his mother had persuaded him not to kill Draco, but to let him live in torturous conditions instead.

The memory flashed inside his head at the speed of a blinking eye. He hated it. It had started everything.

Not that he didn't (in some way) have his parents under his thumb. It was strange, their relationships. They bought him whatever he desired, were persuaded to do whatever he asked, let him roam freely. But even this freedom was empty to him.

Suddenly, he heard footsteps. He jerked around. His father was there, his hair tied back in a suave black ribbon, his cape swishing around him. He looked rather flawless, like a marble statue. He didn't look human. "Draco." He said, almost in surprise. "You're here."

"And I could have easily been anywhere else in the world." Draco replied. He wasn't sure why he said that, but he did.

"Yes," his father said. "I need to inform you that we are going on vacation to Romania in a week. We'll be going for a month."

"Romania?" Draco inquired. _Who goes to vacation in Romania?_ He wondered.

"Yes. So be ready to go." He replied and ducked down into the house.

"Fine." Draco said softly, and focused his gaze again on the universe, which seemed to shrink slightly every time he looked at it.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Escaping to Romania…

Draco sighed as he packed his last pair of trousers. He looked around his room. The walls were stone bricks, the floor the same. His bed had high posts on it fashioned from ebony wood. They had dragons' heads on the tips which breathed ice every once in a while (obviously implying the cool temperature of Malfoy Manor). This amused Draco, and this was one of the things he would miss the most. That, and the painting of Succubus hanging over his bed, which indulged in him regularly.

He flicked the wand and the bag latched itself and locked itself up tightly. He sat on the bed, staring at the floor. He still wanted to know, _why Romania?_ Why not the villas of Italy, or the streets of France, or the countryside of Spain? Why not the lovely coast of the Mediterranean? Why not somewhere where they could see the water expanding for miles and miles, where fish jump and birds sing?

Oh, these thoughts were so very un-Draco like. But he couldn't help it. The depression of the life he was leading was driving him mad.

"POTTER!" Came the voice of Vernon Dursley at seven o' clock on the morning of July the Seventh. Harry fumbled for his glasses, too sleepy to open his eyes. "COME DOWN HERE THIS INSTANT!" Finally, Harry found his glasses. He slipped them on, slid into his slippers, scratched his cheek and made his way down to the kitchen, where the Dursleys usually were.

"Yes?" Harry asked in a generously sweet voice for a person who had been woken up early by their horrible uncle in summer when it is the law to sleep in. "What is it?"

Uncle Vernon looked furious, but he looked overjoyed as well. In fact, the two were so well mixed into his face that it looked rather the color and texture of blackberry current ice cream. Harry stifled his chuckle by biting his tongue as he stood, hunched with sluggishness, and awaited what his rather emotional uncle was trying to tell him.

Uncle Vernon held up a letter. "We've won a trip," he snarled. "A trip to Romania. And Mrs. Figg is away. Marge is on her honeymoon with Henry…" He looked ready to explode. At the same time, something was exploding inside of Harry. If he had heard his uncle correctly, there was no one to watch him, just as there hadn't been the time he had gone to the zoo and let the snake on Dudley. He waited with baited breath for those final, freeing words.

"Stop gawking at me, you idiotic child! You know what this means. It means…"

"That I'm coming with you?" Harry asked excitedly, ignoring the fact that Uncle Vernon had dared call him a child. Aunt Petunia and Dudley watched in complete horror, devastated that their freak of a nephew who they wished didn't exist was going on vacation with them.

"Yes." Uncle Vernon's face wrinkled with displeasure as he admitted it. "Yes, you are coming with us. We're leaving in one hour, and if you're not packed –"

But Harry didn't allow him to finish. He was already down the hall and halfway up the stairs. He dashed into his room, happier than he had been in weeks. He looked at Hedwig with a huge grin.

"We're finally getting out of Privet Drive, even if it is with the Dursleys!" He announced to her. She hooted in satisfaction. He threw his books and his clothes in his trunk. He packed his wand just in case. He was only sixteen, but he remembered his encounter with the Dementors in Magnolia Crescent quite well, since it was only about a year ago. Now that Fudge was out of office, he could never get expelled for defending himself.

Finally, he was ready. He laid on his bed and stared at his watch. It seemed to take ages, but finally it was time to leave. He dragged his trunk downstairs. It emanated a large thump with each step it hit on the way down the staircase. Harry didn't care. He was overjoyed to be getting out of this sticky, cliché, preppy neighborhood.

Uncle Vernon was flushed, Aunt Petunia was pale, and Dudley was as fat as ever. Nevertheless, they squeezed into Uncle Vernon's tiny car and started on their way to Romania. Harry stared out the window dreamily and knew that, at last, his opportunity for paradise had come.

Draco lugged his suitcase out to the front lawn. They would be traveling by threstals. He saw the sad animals, chewing on a steak out in the courtyard. Their eyes glowed in the simple afternoon sun. Quietly, he set the bags near the fountain and crept back inside.

"Pansy and Lauren are coming too," Lucius told him as he spotted him slipping in the door. "I arranged for that. I thought you might enjoy it." He smirked, knowing full well his son's appetite for women. What he didn't know was that that appetite had been gradually decreasing over the last year. Women didn't interest Draco very much anymore, and he didn't bother to figure it out. He just told himself that he was simply around them too much. Anyone can get tired of the opposite sex after being around them all the time.

"Yes, Father. Thank you." Draco replied in a monotone. He decided to ask him what he had wanted to ask all along. "Father, why are we going to Romania?"

His father stopped and looked at Draco. There was the familiar cold glint in his eye Draco had always noticed right before he got give across the face.

"I have business to conduct with the Dark Lord." His father said coldly, not blinking.

"Really." Draco said rhetorically. He wasn't surprised.

"Yes. Did you take your things out to the courtyard?"

"Yes."

"Then let's go."

Lucius went to fetch Draco's mother, Narcissa. When they came back down, holding hands and looking strangely dreamy-eyed, Draco sighed and they went into the front yard. Still holding hands, Narcissa and Lucius boarded one threstal. Draco quietly mounted the other and held on tightly.

They arrived in Romania a time later. The land was cold and barren, a scarred wasteland and a depressing spread of death. Draco was torn by it. Of course, what had he expected? But it didn't matter. He sighed and dismounted the threstal, which snorted. He patted it softly. There was an understanding between he and this animal, even if it was quiet and miniscule.

In the distance was a two story flat. It was large, but smaller than what Draco was used to. It looked much like a beach house. Suddenly, a glint of light caught Draco's eye…

…could it be?

Abandoning his luggage and ignoring his father's calls, he dashed past the house and stopped.

There lay a more beautiful lake than he had ever seen with his own eyes. The water was clear and looked cool and blue. The bottom rim was long and sloped, Draco could see. A little dock stretched out bravely into the water. There were hills ahead, and the sun was slinking down below them. He bent down and ran his hand through the water. Draco shivered as a set of chills ran down his spine.

"Draco, what are you doing?" Lucius hollered. "Come and get your luggage!"

Reluctantly, Draco stepped away from the edge of the inviting lake and went to fetch his trunk. Lucius looked incensed.

_What's your problem?_ Draco thought, annoyed. He picked up the trunk and dragged it up the porch of the house and into the first room.

It was quaint, but ancient in a way he couldn't describe. The room looked as though it had been carved from driftwood. In fact, that is what Draco concluded.

"Your room is upstairs." Lucius sneered. He was standing in the doorway behind Draco.

"What's that door over there?" Draco pointed to a door on his right.

"That's the door to the other house." He said casually. Draco gave him a funny look. "This is a duplex. Didn't you know?"

"And we couldn't afford a house to ourselves?" Draco asked skeptically.

"Not at the moment, no. You know I'm a little short on Galleons."

"But –"

Lucius gave him The Look.

"Who's the other family?"

"I don't know. Some man and his wife, kid, and nephew."

Draco turned away and took his trunk upstairs. By the time he got up, he was sweating and out of breath. To the left, a sign that read 'Draco' was pinned next to a flimsy-looking door. He shoved it open and went inside.

The room was made to look like a sailor's quarters. The window was a porthole and the knobs on the dresser were little anchors. _This is gay_, Draco thought exasperatedly. Quietly fuming, he began to unpack his things.

Harry arrived when it was nearly dark. He saw a large beach house, then caught a glimpse of the lake. It was wonderful. He hadn't really expected Romania to be like this, and he was pleasantly surprised. He imagined staying at some boring hotel where you're not allowed to dive in the pools and they leave those disgusting peppermints on your pillow.

"What a rattrap." He heard Uncle Vernon whisper to Aunt Petunia. "And I can't believe we're sharing _this_ with another family."

Harry turned back to them sharply. "What other family?"

"What was it…the Malloys?" His face contorted, annoyed that Harry had asked him a question that actually required him to think.

A horrible thought came to Harry's mind. He wanted to ignore it, but he voiced it anyway.

"Not that _Malfoys_?"

"Yes! That's the one." Uncle Vernon replied. "And if you act abnormal boy, I swear you'll be chained to that dock for a month." He threatened, his face going purple.

"Fine." Harry answered coolly. He wouldn't really mind being chained to the dock for a month if that meant he didn't have to answer to Malfoy.

Bravely, he dragged his trunk to the front door and knocked.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

In The Dust

The man that opened the door was no other than Lucius Malfoy. Harry's insides twisted horribly with anger and hatred as he watched the sneering man's face go from contentment to utter loathing. Malfoy's skin twisted and reformed like clay until it quite resembled Voldemort's. Harry shuddered.

"Potter," Malfoy spat. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm staying here with my…family." Harry said, looking queasily over at the Dursleys, who were all working to lug Dudley's huge suitcase, which was packed with tapes of all his favorite TV shows and video games, up to the house.

"Really?" Malfoy smirked. "How interesting. Your house is next door. Don't bother us and Draco won't have to come kill you in your sleep." He slammed the door in Harry's face so hard that it blew his hair back. He shrugged and went to the next door.

"Get out of the way, boy!" Uncle Vernon grunted. He waddled forward rather quickly for a man his size and shoved the key through the lock. It clicked and the door fell open. Dudley tried, grunting, to shove his suitcase through the door, but it was much too wide. Slowly, they unloaded it and carried the things in one by one. Harry was rather satisfied when he learned that they had no TV or computer. Dudley had a right fit, and Harry watched with satisfied eyes.

"I can't believe this! Daddy, Mummy, DO SOMETHING!" he wailed pitifully, beating his fists on the backs of his parents.

"Sweetums, we can't do anything! We're hundreds of miles away from home!" Aunt Petunia told him.

"So – go – GET THEM!" He screamed much like a tiny child.

Uncle Vernon glanced at Aunt Petunia, who did something unexpected. "Dudley," she said quietly and grabbed his fists. He stopped his false crying in shock of her voice. "Stop being a baby. You won't have what you want, this time."

Uncle Vernon made to stop her, but she cut him off. "No, Vernon. This time I'm putting my foot down. I…I've had enough." She said. She looked almost in tears. For the first time in his life, Harry actually felt sorry for her.

Dudley looked at her in dead shock. "But Mummy…"

"No Dudley. No. Both of you, go to your room and unpack. I've got to get supper started."

"But –"

"Go! And not another word out of either of you! God knows I need some peace and quiet." She said contemptibly. All the way upstairs, Dudley was fuming, but Harry was impressed.

"You had it coming, you know." Harry informed him.

"Shut up!" Dudley cried, hurling Harry into the nearest potted plant. He smashed against it and fell to the floor. Dudley ran into his room and slammed the door shut.

"Damn…" Harry muttered. His back was bleeding where the vase had grazed his skin. He ignored it and went to the door with the sign 'Potter' tacked on it.

He opened the door slowly. The room was green and gold, mostly nature themed, with many plants and vines carved into the brilliant mahogany armoire. The bed's quilt was covered with a bright green cotton forest. The carpet was white shag. The curtains on the four-poster were olive green velour.

He smiled and pulled his trunk to the end of the bed.

Draco walked downstairs and entered the living room. He found it so interesting that all the furniture in the house was constructed entirely out of driftwood.

"I'm going –" but he was stopped as he spotted his mother and father kissing on the sofa. "Yes. Bye then."

Although he constantly ran into that sort of thing with his parents, it was still very surprising and awkward every time he walked in on them. He _hated _walking in on them.

Just as he was heading towards the other house to see who the new family was, three people flew down on broomsticks and landed right next to him. It was Pansy and her parents, Mr. and Mrs. Parkinson.

"Draco!" she squealed, flinging her arms around him. He was thrown backwards by her and he fell to the ground. A cloud of dust flew up around them as she locked him in a passionate kiss. "It's been so long."

"It's been a month, Pansy." He growled, fighting a cough. She was crushing his lungs and it was very painful. "Would you mind getting off of me?"

"Oh. Yes." She said, embarrassed. She stood up next to her parents as Draco, scowling, brushed the dust from his black robes. "Um…mum, dad, this is Draco, my boyfriend."

"Nice to meet you." Draco said, shaking their hands. "My father is inside the left house, he can show you to your rooms." They nodded and left he and Pansy in the yard.

"Draco, what's the matter with you?" she whispered.

"Me? What are you on, you just leapt up on me and snogged me in front of your parents!" he said angrily.

"They don't care. Why are you so embarrassed? You never are at school." She pouted.

"I'm sorry." He said shortly. "I'm sorry I'm not in the mood."

"I'll get you in the mood." She vowed, though he hardly believed it. "How about a swim?"

"Later." He replied gruffly, but she frowned, so he said, "Much later. A private swim."

"Oooooh I love you!" She squealed and hugged him tightly. "I can't wait for tonight. You know how good you are to me."

"I know…" he sighed. Pansy never really had satisfied him. "Let's go inside."

As they walked, she grabbed his hand, and he didn't stop her, although that was really all he wanted to do.

Above them, Harry watched through his window with prying eyes.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

**The Beginning of the End**

"Supper!" Harry heard Aunt Petunia call. He put his book (Flying with the Cannons) on the nightstand, slipped his socks back on and went down the stairs and to the kitchen. The smell of meatloaf drifted to his nostrils. He didn't mind Aunt Petunia's meatloaf; it was usually pretty good. It was a pity that he was really in the mood for shrimp.

He looked at the woman in faded pink apron. Streaks of gray tainted her mane of blonde hair. Lines were etched shallowly into her face. Her lips were pursed as they always were, and her eyes slightly narrowed. Her face was rudely contorted like she was trying not to cry. She noticed his gaze and cocked her head at him.

"What are you gaping at, boy? Get your dinner and sit down." She told him. And he did just that.

The meal was quiet, draped in a suffocating, awkward silence. Whenever it was broken by a utensil scraping a plate or a cough, the whole room felt a ton heavier than it had before. The sun was setting in the brazen sky, and the birds were just beginning to quiet. Harry felt at peace somehow, even in the midst of all this tension. That was just more power to him.

After dinner, he watched as Aunt Petunia tossed her apron on the counter and quickly strode out the door, slamming it behind her. Dudley and Uncle Vernon looked caught between terror, loathing, and puzzlement. Harry, on the other hand, rose from the table and went after her.

She was sitting on the dock, throwing bits of dirt and weeds into the lake. She looked so innocent, so childish in the way she was sitting. Gingerly, Harry went and sat down next to her.

"Aunt Petunia…?" he said cautiously.

"What?" she snapped, not even looking at him.

"What's the matter?"

It was now that she looked at him. Even after the many times she had insulted his parents and in general, his existence, he still loved this woman because she had stood up for him at least once, and she didn't seem to hate him as much as the rest of her family did. It broke his heart to see tears in her eyes, but he did not touch her. He merely let her speak, and that was the best he could have done for her.

"Harry. They don't appreciate me. They don't even _want_ me." She started to cry softly, achingly. Harry held her as best he could, though it was horribly awkward. His face turned a dull red.

"Yes they do, sometimes they just don't show. Sometimes everyone takes someone for granted. Just let them know how you feel." He told her, patting her back uncomfortably. He didn't think he had ever been hugged by anyone of his own family before.

"And where did you learn that?" she sniffed.

"Oh…around…" he murmured.

She broke away from him and dried her tears with a hanky she kept in her pocket. She forced herself to stop rather abruptly. "Well…thank you Harry. That…helped."

Even though he knew she was lying, he nodded and smiled. She got up off the dock and went back to the condo. He knew he had helped her if only by holding her while she cried.

He rubbed his lower back absentmindedly, and when he looked at his hand it was covered in dark blood. His mouth dropped open in shock, then he remembered when Dudley had thrown him into the potted plant earlier and he calmed.

He went back to the condo, only now feeling the pain in his back. _It's so funny how you don't feel something until you notice it's there_, he thought. He walked through the door to find Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia having a serious conversation. He supposed Dudley was somewhere upstairs. Not wanting to interrupt, he crouched behind the kitchen counter.

There was a pause, and then they began to speak.

"I know you're seeing that man from Dudley's school. Professor Crumplebottom, is it? So don't give me that guff about taking people for granted, Petunia. I know what you've been doing, I've heard things at work. Do you know how embarrassing that is, to have other people inform you of the things your wife does with other men when you're not around her?" Hissed Uncle Vernon so angrily that his voice shook.

"Oh please!" Aunt Petunia cried, flinging her wine glass to the floor. It shattered into a thousand sharp pieces. "Like you didn't see it coming? You've been away all these years, Vernon, somewhere where I can't reach you! We have no sex life, we never go out, I can barely even get anything out of you anymore that's not related to your damn company! What on earth did you expect?"

"Why didn't you just speak to me! All this –"

"_You never talk back, Vernon!_" She cried hysterically. "Our marriage is in shambles because you can't take five minutes out of your goddamned day to have a conversation with your wife!"

"YOU'RE FUCKING DUDLEY'S ENGLISH PROFESSOR!" Uncle Vernon roared. All was quiet after that as they stood in the kitchen, breathing as though they had both been running. Aunt Petunia was the first to speak.

"After this vacation is over," she said quietly, on the verge of tears once again, "I want a divorce."

Harry's mouth dropped open and he just sat there, wondering what life would be like after this vacation. He didn't really think it would ever be the same again.

It was almost midnight. Draco lie awake in bed. He could hear Pansy tapping on his door, not wanting to wake his parents. He really hated Pansy, he had discovered, so much that he could disregard the sex. She was so…repulsive. She didn't love him, but she would do anything for her. In the previous year this would have made Draco giddy with pleasure, but now it just put him off. It was very confusing. He found he just wasn't attracted to the girls he knew lately. Draco guessed it was probably because his hormones were slowing down.

Not wanting any more questions, Draco heaved himself up out of bed and went to the door. She was waiting outside and she grinned when she saw him. Draco was not surprised when he saw she was wearing nothing but a sheer pink robe. This didn't even excite him like it should have.

"Are you ready?" Pansy asked.

"Yes, let me get us towels." He said, and went to retrieve them out of the bathroom. When he came back, she grabbed his hand. He tried to smile, but it came out as more of a sneering smirk.

They went down the stairs as quietly as they could. Draco could hear his parents whispering through the walls but he couldn't make out what they were saying. As they got out the door, a cool burst of wind hit them and blew Draco's hair about. He pushed it back out of his eyes and walked with Pansy down to the lake.

She took off her robe first. She did it very slowly, as if she wanted his eyes to linger on her small and bony body. He stared at her so she thought he was checking her out, but really he was spacing out and praying for it all to be over quickly.

He slipped off his shoes and everything and dove into the water. He forget how good it felt, skinny-dipping, since it was forbidden at Malfoy Manor. He made one lap around the pool then treaded water and waited for Pansy to come to him. As he had predicted, it took her no time at all, and soon she had her tongue down his throat and her hands on his back.

_Make it quick, Pansy,_ he thought in a bored kind of way. _I'm tired._

Draco barely kissed her back, and soon enough, she noticed.

"Draco, why are you being so weird? You didn't used to be like this. It's like you don't fancy me or something." She said bluntly.

"No…I'm just tired." He said. He knew that guys always said that when they didn't like a girl, and wondered why girls still believed it at all.

Pansy beamed. "Oh. Well then I'll wake you up." With that she became to kiss him again.

_What a lame thing to say…_mused Draco.

Harry fingered the newly applied bandage on his back. Already it was soaked with blood, and it would need changing soon enough. He sighed as he sat on the edge of his fancy green bed. He was quite restless, and thinking rather unhappily of the upcoming divorce of his aunt and uncle. Though he hated his Uncle, he rather liked Aunt Petunia now and didn't really enjoy seeing her so distraught. But he could do nothing to stop it, he was powerless. He tried to let it go, but it would not. His mind just kept coming back to it.

_I'll go for a swim,_ he decided. _My bandage will need changing anyways._

He changed into his swimming trunks and went quietly down the stairs and outside. The waters looked busy, but he excused it and went to dive in anyways. The moon was a lovely new pearl in the sky, and he gazed up at it, happy to be bathed in its light.

Harry kicked off his shoes and the mud come up between his toes. He smiled, then walked to the edge of the dock.

Noises. He froze. Who else was out here with him? He could barely make out two people getting out on the other side. Curiously, he jumped in and swam under the dock. Harry put his face between the reeds to peer at the approaching couple.

They were blurry because he'd left his glasses behind, but he saw a flash of blonde and a naked, pale body and was suddenly glad he was half-blind. His impaired eyes widened and he gasped in breath and went under.

Draco and Pansy looked over curiously. Harry was careful not to let one bubble of air escape. They stared at the spot for a moment, puzzled, then went on laughing and whispering to each other.

Since Harry didn't know quite how fast they were walking, he could only guess when they would arrive at the door to Draco's condo. This would be dangerous because if he came up too early, he could alert them of his presence and that would really be suicide. He could just think of the accusations…but if he stayed down too long, he would drown himself. So, on a guess, he waited another ten seconds and then bounded to the top.

He gasped for air loudly, and quickly looked over. They were inside. Harry was flooded with relief. He was just about to get out when he spotted people Apparating right in front of the Malfoy's door. Ever curious, he hid behind the reeds once more and watched the people.

He nearly had a heart attack as he realized those two people were Bellatrix Black and Severus Snape. And they were wearing masks like the ones he had seen the day of the World Cup. Harry's breathing turned ragged, but he kept as quiet as he possibly could. Luckily, he would just be able to hear their conversation from where he was floating.

Snape knocked twice, then paused, then knocked three more times. Lucius' face appeared almost immediately. He looked quite serious.

"Is the little bastard here?" Bellatrix asked quickly, not even bothering to greet Malfoy. "Is he?"

"Yes, with his wretched Muggle family. They think they've won a trip." Lucius jeered, smirking. A white-hot anger began to bubble deep inside Harry, and was soon joined with an irrepressible fear. "When is He coming?"

"We prefer to keep that unknown." Snape interjected with a sneer.

"Then how shall I know when to prepare?" Lucius hissed.

"Just what do you need to prepare, Lucius? All that is required of you is your presence and your absolute confidence." Snape replied coldly.

"Is Sissy here?" Bellatrix asked, indicating Narcissa. She poked her head through the door, but Lucius shot her a glare that sent her right back out again.

"Yes, but she is sleeping. And there are Draco and Pansy to think about."

"Since when do you care about children?" Bellatrix snapped.

"Shut up, and leave. This is dangerous." Lucius stated.

"We have plans anyways." Snape drawled. Bellatrix grinned wickedly. "Goodbye."

"Bye, Luscious." Bellatrix teased, blowing him a kiss. Lucius merely sneered. He muttered something to himself and then shut the door.

Harry could barely get out of the lake, he was shaking so violently. When he finally did get out, he was violently sick. That made him even weaker. He crawled over under a tree and laid his head on the earth.

They were coming to kill him.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

A Wizard's Debt

Harry woke up before he opened his eyes. His bed felt so hard, like he was sleeping on wood. He groped for his glasses but they were not there, all he felt was grass. The smell of vomit lingered, and he nearly gagged.

He opened his eyes. The sun nearly blinded him at first. He grabbed the trunk of the tree he had slept by and pulled himself up. He tried to remember why he had slept out here. Then it came.

_I'm going to die. There's no way out this time, no Dumbledore. It's all a matter of bloody goddamned time. _

"Potter?" he heard a snapping voice inquire. The blonde boy peered at him, smirked. Pansy was beside him, and beside Pansy was a blonde girl he didn't know of.

"What the fuck do you want…?" Harry asked. He felt like he had a hangover. Perhaps that was just what he wanted.

"What the hell are you doing out here?" he prodded.

"I feel asleep under this tree. What are you doing out here?" Harry didn't know why he even cared, but the truth was he was trying to distract himself from his looming death.

_Maybe Trelawney can come preach the Grim to me_, he thought amusedly, and almost chuckled.

"I'm showing Lauren around." Draco indicated to the new girl. She was very pretty, Harry found. She had honey blonde hair and lovely blue eyes. "You look like a drunken bum, Potter." Draco jeered, and the girls giggled softly.

"And you look like a monkey's ass." Harry replied. "But that's nothing new."

"Why you –" Draco lunged at Harry, but Lauren and Pansy each grabbed one of his arms. Lauren's French-manicured nails dug into the fabric of his shirt and pulled the collar down to reveal a huge, nasty purple bruise that looked fresh. Draco stopped, immediately alarmed, and pulled his collar back up. A tiny blush appeared on his pale cheeks. Harry stared curiously at him as he pulled himself up off the cold ground.

"Draco, what happened?" asked Pansy.

"Nothing." He said in a would-be casual voice. "You watch your ass, Potter."

"Sorry, I don't bend that way." He called out, but Draco was already gone. He sighed exasperatedly and went into the condo. As he went through the door, he was nearly hit with a coffee mug. It whizzed past his head and onto the dead grass outside, where the handle cracked and fell off.

"Get out, get out, GET OUT!" Aunt Petunia was screaming, hurling dishes and things at Uncle Vernon, who had taken refuge behind the kitchen counter as Harry had once done.

"You're mad!" He hollered, ducking. A plate grazed what remained of his hair. "Barking!"

"Well at least I'm not FAT!" she screamed, throwing a blue glass.

"You stupid whore! Go back to your professor!" He shouted as he ran (or waddled, really) into the other room.

Harry stood there in some sort of a shock. He had forgotten that Uncle Vernon was human and new those sorts of words.

Aunt Petunia was sobbing into her apron again, and this time Harry stood his distance. He was now very scared of his aunt. He just wasn't in the mood to have dishes hurled his way.

"I can't take it, Harry! I really can't!" she wept, and ran out of the kitchen and up the stairs rather noisily. Meanwhile, Uncle Vernon was pacing back and forth in the living room. If he wasn't careful, Harry suspected the floor would eventually collapse under him.

Shrugging, remembering that he was going to die, he removed the brandy from the cabinet where they had the liquor and got out a shot glass. Hesitating, he left the shot glass on the counter and took the whole bottle instead.

Draco approached his father directly. His Mother had taken Pansy, Pansy's Parents, and Lauren on a picnic across the lake. Lucius and Draco had decided to stay, Lucius because he was waiting on information from the Dark Lord and Draco because he wanted to ask his father about precisely that.

"Father?" he asked. Lucius was reading the Dailey Prophet while drinking firewhiskey, and didn't even bother to look at Draco.

"Hm?"

"Did you bring Potter here to execute him?"

This made Lucius look up. "How did you know about that?"

"I heard you and Mother talking after Pansy and I came back from the lake." Draco told him.

"Well, I – wait, what were you and Pansy doing at the lake last night?" Lucius peered at him quizzically.

"Swimming." Draco lied quickly. Lucius was silent for a moment.

"Bullshit, you fucked her." Lucius said matter-of-factly. Draco stood, his mouth agape, in shock. "But anyways, to answer your question, yes, we're finally going to kill Potter."

"But…why?" Draco didn't know why he was even asking. He knew that he should be happy, but for some reason he was critical of the whole situation.

"You know why, Draco. Don't insult me."

"Yes, but why here? Why not in front of Dumbledore, at Hogwarts?"

"Because we're tired of waiting, don't you see? And this is Romania, there's no one for miles around, and they're just Muggles and Mudbloods." He said casually, turning the page of his paper. "Why do you even question it? You hate Potter."

"Yes, I know." Draco lingered. Lucius looked up at him again.

"Why are you still here?"

Draco, caught in an unexpected flood of anger and fear, yanked down his collar to show off his ugly bruise. "The girls saw, Father. And I had no prepared lies to tell them."

"And why is that my concern?"

"Because you did it." Draco retorted, his nostrils flaring. He was buckling under his anger. "You drunk ass, you fucking beat me!" he screamed. He knew it was a bad move, but this had been bottling up for quite a while, especially after he had discovered that he really wanted to kill his father, and he could think of all too many creative ways to do it.

Lucius stood up so quickly that passersby might have thought that he had already been standing. He grabbed Draco by the collar so brutally that it ripped, but he took no notice. He was breathing like an animal. "I don't know how you even dare to speak to me that way, boy. But I can assure you that it is a mistake."

"Oh, and what are you going to do? Hit me harder? I doubt I can be hit any harder than you've been doing lately, because you're a goddamn drunk!" Draco challenged. For some odd reason, he was laughing.

SLAP.

The side of his face exploded in pain. The print of Lucius' wedding ring (two serpents) was imprinted on Draco's face. His cheek was a huge red blotch, and it would probably bruise as well.

"Do you want more? Do you want another slap from this drunk?" Lucius yelled, so close to Draco's face that his words sprayed Draco with spit.

Draco looked up, his head lolling. He was almost unconscious, but he was just holding on. "Slapping is for pussies." He muttered. He took his hand, straightened it, and brought his palm to his father's nose. There came a satisfying yet unexpected crack, and Lucius howled with pain. "Fuck you." He said almost inaudibly. Darkness was spreading quickly in his line of vision. It wasn't too long before it was dark altogether.

Harry wondered back outside after decided not to go anywhere near Uncle Vernon. He sat on the steps below the door. It was late afternoon, and the temperature was decent and better described as warm than as anything else.

He was resting his head in his hands, but it snapped up quickly when he heard a commotion coming from next door. Lucius was holding somebody's limp body…looked like Draco's. He was either sleeping or unconscious. Lucius was muttering to himself and he nearly tripped as he walked down onto the dead land. He dropped Draco under a nearby tree and went back inside, still talking to himself.

Harry, curious and oddly worried, got off the steps after Lucius had shut the door behind him and ran over to Draco, entertaining the thought that he could very well be dead. This made him run faster. Even though he hated Draco, he didn't want him to die.

He peered down at the blonde boy. His cheek looked red and irritated and also starting to bruise. There was a small cut on his forehead, and blood was running. His eyelids looked sort of purple. Harry bent down and placed his hand on his chest.

_Oh…_Harry thought with fright.

He wasn't breathing.

He got down and, though it was revolting, he used the Muggle technique that they had learned in school before he left. He pinched Draco's nose shut and seemingly kissed him, though he was really breathing air into Draco. He waited then did it again. Draco still wasn't breathing. Desperately, he tried one more time. He waited and was relieved when Draco coughed and then gasped for air.

"What…Potter?" he squinted.

"You owe me, Malfoy. Your drunken ass father almost killed you this time." Harry muttered, staring down at Draco.

"Huh…really?" Draco asked stupidly. "So, what, you revived me or something?" He sneered.

"Yeah, actually." Harry answered coolly. "You don't have to tell anyone or anything. Just know that you owe me."

"Fine. I owe you." Draco muttered reluctantly. "And I think we should at least be civil towards each other in front of Pansy and Lauren, they think highly of me and I don't want to be embarrassed. I don't really give a damn about you, but…maybe if I'm in a good mood I'll set you up with Lauren or something."

"Sure. Fine." Harry replied, not really caring but willing to agree. "Just remember what I said about debt, Malfoy."

"I'll remember. Trust me for once in your life." Malfoy said.

"Why should I?" Harry asked.

"Because I know things you might not, and I might be able to help you out. Just trust me." Draco shrugged. Harry thought vaguely that he might be talking about the plot to kill him, but he decided not to say anything. "Do you want to walk around the lake later with Lauren and Pansy and I?"

"Why the hell are you being so nice to me, Malfoy? I just asked you to remember my debt, not to be my best friend." Harry inquired suspiciously.

"Because I pity you, Potter. And if you want to know why you had better stop being such an asshole."

"I saved your damn life. Don't tell me what to do. Maybe I'll just let you die next time."

"Fine, I didn't ask for you to save me. Maybe I'll just let you die too." Draco retorted hotly.

"So you know that your father brought me here to kill me?" Harry's voice got very quiet, and his glasses looked slightly fogged. Draco said nothing for a bit, because if he was in Potter's situation, he would be pretty put off as well.

"Yes. I just found out last night."

"That makes two of us."

"So are you going to run?"

"S'pose so."

The two were silent for a minute.

"Amazing, I can't believe we just had a civil conversation." Harry remarked.

"Only because I pity you." Draco said.

"No, because I think you understand me."

"That's absurd." Draco crossed his arms.

"No it's not, we both hate your father."

Silence again, this time not so awkward.

"That's true." Draco murmured.

"Anyways, perhaps I'll take you up on that walk tonight. I'd like to meet Lauren and get out from under the Dursleys anyways. I need some time to clear my head before I run. But then again, what's the point? They'll kill me anyways and I'll just look like a coward. Perhaps I'll stay and get drunk, then I'll fight. What do you think?" Harry asked. Draco snapped out of his state when he was aware that Potter was finally done talking to himself.

"If you want, it's up to you. But I suppose there's no way out, right?"

"Yeah."

"Then you might as well stay. Hell, maybe you'll even get to fuck Lauren before you go."

"I can sure tell you respect her." Harry smirked.

"I respect her about as much as I respect Pansy, maybe a bit more. They're both sluts anyways, and I find them repulsive."

"I don't know Lauren. Pansy's just a bitch." Harry stated, staring at his reflection in the water.

"I agree. So I'll see you later then. I guess we'll be going at about seven."

"Okay, I'll meet you here."

"Bye then."

As they went their separate ways, both boys were a bit surprised when they realized they had just formed the basis of a shaky friendship.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Dream to Nightmare

It was a quarter to eight. Harry sat around the dinner table with the Dursleys, watching everybody tensely. It would have been completely silent was the TV not on. Aunt Petunia's lips were pursed so tightly that they had become a white blotch above her chin. Uncle Vernon's face was purple. Dudley ate quietly and slowly, which was something new. Harry hardly ate at all.

He was thinking about the previous night, which seemed more like a hazy nightmare than anything.

He had been washing the dishes, humming Hogwarts' school anthem to himself. Uncle Vernon had been in the lounge, downing shots of brandy. His eyes were red and he looked positively ruddy. He was muttering to himself, obviously about Petunia, but for some reason once or twice Snape's name came up as well. Harry had chosen that he wanted to forget this.

Aunt Petunia had walked into the lounge to get to the kitchen when Uncle Vernon pounded his fist on the table, causing one of the shot glasses to shatter on the floor. Aunt Petunia whipped around and stared at him wildly.

"What is wrong with you?" she said unhappily. "Drunk again. It's not even nine o' clock."

There was the screeching of the chair on the hardwood, then a muffled cry, and Uncle Vernon was holding Aunt Petunia against the wall, screaming in her face. Harry looked over, his eyes narrowed. He snatched a kitchen knife out of the dish drainer and rushed into the lounge.

"Let go of her." He said. His voice was dangerously low. Uncle Vernon looked slowly over at him as if he posed no threat.

"You wouldn't cut me!" Vernon spat boisterously. Harry glared at him.

"What makes you think I wouldn't? There's no one out here to help you."

Uncle Vernon turned back to Petunia, and began to squeeze her. She cried out in pain and before Harry could understand what he was doing he had barely slit he top layer of skin on the back of Uncle Vernon's neck. Drops of blood began to roll down into his shirt.

He dropped the poor woman and grabbed at the back of his neck, flailing. Harry ran to him and stabilized him. He looked into his dangerously blood shot eyes, imagining that his blood alcohol level was at least .20.

Uncle Vernon made a break for the door and got out just in time. Harry winced at the retched sounds. They didn't seem to stop for quite some time.

When he was done, he wiped his mouth and went into the bedroom to (Harry supposed) get ready for bed. As Aunt Petunia was still upset, Harry went to check on Uncle Vernon. He crept down the hall and put his ear to the door.

Harry's eyes widened at a sound he'd never heard the man make before; the sound of sobs. He was crying.

Next, Harry angrily kicked open the door of Dudley's bedroom, leaving a shoe-mark on it. Dudley was playing his Gameboy or whatever he called it, lying comfortably in bed.

"What the hell – Potter – "

"You bastard! Your mum almost got beat up by your fucking dad and you're sitting here playing your damn games!" Harry roared. Dudley's face contorted with outrage.

"I didn't hear anything! What gives you the right –"

"Don't bullshit me, Dudley! He threw her up against the bloody wall!" Harry yelled. He was breathing rather heavily, his entire body was shaking, and he could feel his pulse alarmingly well.

Dudley couldn't find any way to reply to that. Harry checked his watch and made an effort to catch his breath.

"It's seven, I'm going for a walk. If your dad gets out of hand again…" He trailed. "You had better do something." He left after making Dudley promised. When he got into the kitchen Aunt Petunia was making tea, looking awake and rather spacey.

"I'm going for a walk, Aunt Petunia. Be back later."

"Alright." She replied listlessly. She barely even blinked.

"And I'm taking all the liquor in the house with me."

That time she blinked. "Fine."

"Er…bye then."

Harry unlocked the liquor cabinet with the key sitting on the table. He removed everything, just as he had promised. All that remained was a bottle of red wine, some whiskey, vodka, and Bailey's. Vernon had downed all the brandy, but that didn't matter. Harry was just planning on getting rid of all the stuff anyways.

As he went outside the smell of vomit nearly blew him backwards. Grimacing, he walked as fast as he could over to Draco's, where he and the girls were waiting outside.

"Oh good, you brought poison." Draco said sarcastically.

"Actually I was going to –"

"I _love_ Bailey's." Lauren said, smiling. "It's my favorite. Yours too?" She was obviously flirting. Harry decided it would be okay to play along.

"Er…yeah." He smiled weakly. She grinned and ran her hand down his arm. He looked at it uncomfortably.

"Great." She whispered seductively.

"Give me the vodka and the wine." Lauren said. Harry handed her the drinks. "We can drink it when we get to the other side of the lake."

"That's not what –"

"Wicked." Pansy said, her hand on Draco's crotch. Draco looked rather nauseated, and Harry turned away.

With that they started to walk. It was a lovely cool night, even if the moon wasn't as full as before. A slight breeze was blowing the dead leaves off the pomegranate trees, and it looked more like autumn than summer. It seemed so full of mystery.

They made small talk as they walked, and Harry found that he really wasn't interested in Lauren at all. She was beautiful, but he felt no attraction to her. In fact, he hadn't really been attracted to any girl after Cho. It was strange, but he figured it was a phase and it would be over soon enough. Something with hormones. Along those lines.

The girls were flirty, but the guys were anything but indulgent towards their behavior. Pansy and Lauren didn't seem to notice this. They were sluts and nothing could put them off that. It really pissed Harry off, but he was polite and said nothing. A couple of times he pushed her away, like he noticed Draco doing with Pansy, but she just came right back so soon he stopped trying.

They got to the other side of the lake in about ten minutes. There they set up a quilt that one of the girls had brought, two lanterns, a couple of pillows and the drinks. The breeze kicked up all of a sudden, the settled down, the kicked up again. Both the girls were drinking, but Draco and Harry looked at each other and decided against it. After all the bruises and threats and blood and tears, they knew what those girls didn't.

The night grew late and Harry laid down. Draco was adjacent to him and decided to do the same. The girls were dancing and shouting and laughing down by the lake, but at least they weren't vomiting, and Harry and Draco decided to leave them alone. They just hoped Pansy and Lauren wouldn't pass out and fall into the water.

Harry fell asleep quickly and Draco did as well. They both had long, peaceful slumbers.

When Harry woke up, he was in someone's arms. Remembering the dream that he had had (a very kinky, satisfying dream), he found that he still wanted to pretend. His eyes were still closed, and he was too tired to really realize what he was doing. He ran his hands down his lover's face, found their lips, and kissed them softly. He was both surprised and happy to find that his lover was kissing him back. He opened his eyes.

He let out one of the loudest screamed he'd ever emitted.

He had slept next to and kissed Draco Malfoy.

When Draco opened his eyes, he also screamed. "WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT ABOUT!"

"I DON'T KNOW, I DON'T KNOW! I THOUGHT YOU WERE SOMEBODY ELSE!" Harry screamed, not really in anger, but in pure alarm.

"WELL WHY DON'T YOU CHECK NEXT TIME BEFORE YOU KISS SOMEONE?" Draco bellowed, his face bright. Harry imagined his looked the same.

"I WILL, THANKS!"

"What's going on?" came the flat voice of one of girls. It was Pansy. Her hangover was only too apparent.

"Nothing." Harry said, breathing deeply.

"Then…what's that…?" She pointed, gesturing to the front of Harry's pants. Then she promptly vomited all over the quilt. Draco, disgusted, jumped up.

Harry looked down. If hadn't been blushing before, he certainly was now. He knew it had been a good dream, but he didn't know it had been _that_ good. He immediately stripped off his pants and hurled them into a nearby shrub. He stood shyly in his boxers, rubbing his elbows.

"Wooooo…" Lauren muttered limply. She was clutching her head. "Hot stuff…"

"I think I'll be going now. Bye." Harry said quickly. He found the urge to run as he walked away from the site. He clenched his teeth when he heard Draco's footsteps echoing his.

"Listen, about – "

"I don't want to talk about it." Harry seethed. He noticed that Draco was also only clothed in his boxers. "What happened to your pants?"

"Nothing!" Draco snapped, but by his tone Harry could tell that the same thing had occurred with Draco. That notion sent chills up his spine.

"Really? You just decided to go with out them."

"No, I….just why the hell do you care anyways?"

"Curiosity isn't a sin."

"It isn't something that necessarily needs to be voiced, either."

Harry stopped and stared at him. "What happened last night, Draco? All I remember was having this really good dream. I was by the lake, and my vision was all blurry, and then someone came and…" he trailed off uncomfortably, and decided to finish the sentence by gesturing to his missing pants. "That about covers it."

Draco went pale and stared at him. "What? What is it?"

"Harry…I had the same dream."

Now the color from Harry's face drained. "So we…"

"Yes. But only with our hands."

"Oh god…still…that's…"

"Disgusting?"

"Exactly."

"But the thing that worries me the most is that we weren't even drunk."

Harry swallowed with disgust. "I know. It must have been sleepwalking or something, because I really thought I was dreaming."

"Me too."

"This is horribly –"

"Awkward? Yes, and I'm going now." Draco set off at a fast walk, more near a jog. Harry waited for about a minute then went back to the condo.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Finding You

Harry's eyes popped open in the middle of the night. His mouth opened in pure wonder. Why the hell hadn't he thought of it before? Goosebumps stood out on his arms and he got a chill. He looked over. Hedwig was sleeping quietly in the corner of the room, her head under her wing. He had barely remembered to feed and water her.

He got up and scribbled quickly on a roll of parchment, messily signing his name, then tapped the cage. Hedwig screeched, and her deep amber eyes seemed to narrow. Harry scowled.

"I don't care if you're tired. This is my life." He said, and fastened the message to her leg. He unlocked the cage door, and then opened the window. A cool, freeing breeze blew his hair back and seemed to sooth him. Harry shrugged at Hedwig, who nipped him on the wrist before flying off.

"Ow!" He shouted at her. He rubbed the bandage on his back absentmindedly.

Harry crawled back under the soft cotton sheets. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get back to sleep. For some horrible reason, every time he closed his eyes all he saw was Draco.

_Arrogant racist ferret_, he thought angrily. _An absolutely disgusting waste of flesh. Little rich boy. Man whore. Spoiled brat. Fornicator._ _Molester. _

"A victim." He whispered. He was shocked at his own words; he hadn't even meant to speak.

_But he wasn't a victim, was he? Only of his own stupidity, and that of his parents. His dad had almost killed him. They brainwashed him into being racist. But you can change, you can always change the way you are, and you do have the choice. And people can help you change, too. Could I help him? _

Harry sat up straight in bed. It was then that the urge hit him. He slipped some socks on and went down quietly to the kitchen to steal some of Dudley's triple fudge cake.

He was quite surprised when he got downstairs to find Aunt Petunia sitting at the table, eating the cake. She looked rather guilty, but Harry gave her a tiny smile. She pulled out a chair for him and he sat down.

They ate quietly for a couple of minutes, savoring the fudge and the silence. Harry cherished the fact that he was somewhat close to his aunt now, and things weren't like they used to be. He stared at her for a moment, for once in his life wondering about her past, and why she hated Lily so much.

"What was my mother like, Aunt Petunia?" Harry asked abruptly. Aunt Petunia swallowed, smiled painfully, and looked up at him.

"Harry," she said. "Your mother was extraordinary."

Harry beamed.

"I was so jealous of her. She got to go away to a magic school, it was like a fantasy. She didn't have to do anything…and Mum and Dad…of course, they favored her. And her husband…let's just say Vernon doesn't compare." She looked down again, suddenly very aware of her life. Harry's heart went out to her, truly and wholly. "It was quite funny, because at first she thought he was the vilest creature that had ever walked the earth. I would often hear her ranting to our parents about his arrogance, and how spoiled rotten he was."

Harry nodded, letting it all run over him in small bits. He thought about none of it right away.

"Oh, and that Snape character. He was in love with her like you'd never imagine. Followed her everywhere, like a lamb…was at our house all the time. I believe they had a relationship as well."

Harry nearly choked on his cake. "Snape? And my mum?" _Inconceivable._

She looked into his eyes as if she had only just realized she was there. "You know Harry, her eyes weren't always green. They only became green after she started dated that Potter."

He nodded. He still had more questions. Harry found it amusing how this whole conversation had just kind of come up out of the blue. "But how was she around Snape?"

"Oh, she loved him. She really did. But something just wasn't right about the relationship. It seemed so…star-crossed. He had asked her to marry him, but she had already promised herself to James so she said no. After that, she never heard from him, as I understand. But…I did."

"What do you mean?"

"Oh now, that's nothing you should be concerned with. Go to bed, it's late." She shooed him away, suddenly looking very uncomfortable. Harry frowned.

"Actually, I think I'll go for a walk." He stated, getting up.

"Don't be too late." She called, turning and walking out. He went out the kitchen door and down, his hand dragging on the railing. It was a starry, starry night, as some guy once said. He snorted at his own humor, and broke the night's silence.

He remembered what Aunt Petunia had said about his mum hating his dad because he was arrogant and spoiled, and that reminded him of his own situation. Excepting, of course, that he was not gay, would never be gay, and never, ever, ever would think of Draco especially as anything more than an acquaintance…or a weird, iffy sort of friend.

So why now, in the middle of the night, after the horribly awkward experience last night, was he going to the Malfoy's house, where he would probably be stunned by Draco's father and then left that way on their doorstep?

"Incredibly stupid…" Harry muttered to himself. And yet, he kept going, and as he walked, he braced himself for a Stunning. He knocked on the door with his eyes squinted shut.

"Potter?" came a young and somehow blonde voice. Harry almost smirked. "What the hell are you doing here? At this time of night?" Draco added.

"Restlessness…" Harry murmured. "You too?"

"Yes, what else?" he replied nastily.

"Don't get pissy with me, Draco."

Draco didn't have any reply to that one. They both stood there in a terribly uncomfortable silence.

"Come for a walk. We can't talk here."

"Why not?"

"You haven't got a clue?"

"No."

"Then come, if only to satisfy your curiosity."

Shrugging, Draco stepped down and closed the door behind him. He was only wearing his underwear. Harry's face and neck suddenly grew very hot. Immediately, he felt disgusted with himself.

"Listen, Draco. I really…I don't think…that what happened last night was…a fluke."

Draco stopped and turned to Harry with blind fury in his eyes. He was breathing heavily through his nose and his nostrils were flaring. "Do you mean to tell me," he hissed. "That we are gay?"

"That's not what I said." Harry said hotly.

"Then just what are you saying, Harry? That we jacked each other off because we're best mates, and that's it?" Draco shouted.

All was silent for a moment, then Harry spoke very calmly. His heart was hammering in his chest like he had just run a thousand meters. "What am I supposed to tell you? Don't you understand what's happening?"

"No."

"You don't want to understand, then."

"I don't even know what you're fucking talking about!" He cried. "Why won't you give me answers?"

"But you liked it!" Harry burst out. Silence again. "You know exactly what I mean by that! You wanted more, even after you knew it was me!"

Draco was suddenly very close to Harry's face. "Well, Harry," he whispered. "You caught me."

Draco bent in and gave Harry a passionate, tongue-thrashing kiss. Harry, surprised but happily so, kissed him back and gave him a fairly equal tongue-thrashing right back. He had just noticed that they were very far into the woods by now, and certainly not within hearing distance of the duplex.

Slowly, they knealt on the grass, and Harry prepared for one of the most harrowing experiences of his life.

-------

The grass rustled. A twig snapped. Lucius quietly cursed at himself, reminding himself to be careful. _Don't make any fucking noise, Lucius_. He squatted in the bushes, watching the two boys carefully. He hadn't realized how much Draco had grown. Potter was a different story. Average-sized, but pulsating. How utterly disgusting.

The moans and whimpers and curses were loud, too loud almost, but Lucius remembered how deep into the woods they were. Of course they didn't notice him. No one ever noticed a good spy. Of course, he didn't like to think of his work as spying, just…carefully observing.

As he watched them together, he found that he was pitching a tent as well.

_Hell, I'll be quiet_.

Lucius unzipped his pants, still watching the boys very, very carefully.

------

Draco lay next to Harry on the grass, panting, but smiling. He was exhausted. It was like being high. So much relaxation…comfort…safety. He'd never had that with any girl he'd had his way with. It was so much different. He ran his hand of Harry's stomach and loved the way Harry's skin felt on his hand.

"This is gay." He whispered, and they both started to chuckle.

"Yes, it is." Harry agreed. "D'you think this'll be awkward later?"

"No." Draco shook his head, his slicked-back platinum-blonde hair rubbing against the grass. "No, it won't."

Harry propped himself up on his elbows, and got to his feet. "I've got to go. It's almost morning, and my ass is bleeding."

They exploded into a loud, happy laughter. Draco got up, too, and kissed Harry goodbye. This was all so strange, all so new. But he liked it.

Quietly, they went back towards the duplex.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Back to Reality

(A/N: If you own the song In Joy and Sorrow by HIM from the Deep Shadows and Brilliant Highlights CD, play it while reading this chapter! It adds such a heart-wrenching effect. ):

Harry awoke in a cold sweat. He groped for his glasses on the end table. He quickly found them and slipped them on.

Had it been a dream?

No, it hadn't. Hedwig was gone.

He groaned. Harry had swallowed more than just his pride that night. Disgusted, he went out into the hall, towards the bathroom to brush his teeth. His hand froze on the doorknob. The sound of dripping water came from inside. A leaky faucet, perhaps? Suspiciously, he turned the knob.

Inside it was dark. He quickly flipped the switch, remembering the looming threat of his death. The shower curtain was drawn. Harry's heart started to hammer in his chest. He walked slowly, ever so slowly, towards the shower. His hand was shaking. His toothbrush lay forgotten on the counter.

He gripped the cold plastic of the blue shower curtain. It was now or never. In a single swift motion, he ripped it back.

What lay behind it caused his vision to shift, turn snowy, like a television screen. He stood in utter shock.

It was completely full, almost to the point of overflowing. The water was crimson with Aunt Petunia's blood. She lay stifling floating in the tub, naked, a rusty razor held in her right hand. A look of longing lay behind her glassy eyes, so frozen. Frozen forever. Her left hand gripped the rim of the tub. Harry noticed her wedding ring was gone.

------

_oh girl, we are the same  
we are young and lost and so afraid   
there's no cure for the pain  
no shelter from the rain  
all our prayers seem to fail_

in joy and sorrow my home's in your arms  
in a world so hollow  
it's breaking my heart  
in joy and sorrow my home's in your arms  
in a world so hollow  
it's breaking my heart

oh girl, we are the same  
we are strong and blessed and so brave  
with souls to be saved  
and faith regained  
all our tears wiped away

in joy and sorrow my home's in your arms  
in a world so hollow  
it's breaking my heart  
in joy and sorrow my home's in your arms  
in a world so hollow  
it's breaking my heart...

in joy and sorrow my home's in your arms  
in a world so hollow  
it's breaking my heart  
in joy and sorrow my home's in your arms  
in a world so hollow  
it's breaking my heart

(in joy and sorrow) and my home's in your arms  
(in a world so hollow) and it's breaking my heart  
(in joy and sorrow) my home's in your arms  
(in a world so hollow) and it's breaking my heart

_- HIM (His Infernal Majesty) _

------

Harry didn't know what to do. A kind of implosion was causing a sudden turmoil inside of him. His heart dropped into his stomach, his stomach onto the floor. And suddenly his dinner was all over the floor, too. He quickly grabbed a towel, thinking of wiping up the vomit, but then laid it over his Aunt's body instead.

All thoughts of Draco, of Voldemort, of the rest of the world, forgotten. Only her. Only the question _Why_.

He wanted to scream, curse God, and keep asking _WHY_. He wanted to weep for her, to drag his uncle and cousin in here and show them, _THIS WAS YOUR FUCKING FAULT_.

And eventually the tears did come, as he sat with his back against the wall. He put his face in his hands and wept, for the first time in maybe sixteen years. There would have been relief but no, no because she was dead. There were no spells to bring back the dead.

Harry cried himself to sleep, crouched against the wall, a pool of sick in front of him. It was the first light of dawn that woke him up a couple of hours later. When he opened his eyes, the first thing that came out of them was tears. A knock on the door made him jump.

"Is anyone in there?" came the voice of Dudley.

Harry didn't answer. When the door opened, he flung himself at Dudley, who grunted. Harry fell on top of him and punched him in the face, again and again, ignoring his cries, ignoring the snaps of possible bones shattering. And he didn't stop until Uncle Vernon came running down the hallway, shouting.

"POTTER! What the bloody hell are you doing? Get the hell of him!" he roared. But Harry wouldn't.

"Make me!" he screamed, not even bothering to hold back tears. His face was a bright red. The boulder that seemed to be lodged in his throat pained him.

And his uncle did. Vernon pulled Harry off Dudley, kicking and screaming. Harry spit in Dudley's face. Vernon gripped Harry's arms and whipped him around to face him. Harry spit in his face too. Vernon slapped him.

"Just what the fuck do you think you are doing, boy?" Uncle Vernon yelled, shaking him. Harry's head snapped back and forth. More tears fell.

"YOU BASTARDS!" Harry sobbed, choking. "SHE'S DEAD! SHE'S DEAD BECAUSE OF YOU, YOU FUCKING DRUNK!"

Uncle Vernon went pale and began to stutter. "W-what are you talking about?"

"Go look for yourself!" Harry moaned, pointing shakily to the bathroom. Uncle Vernon released him, and Harry fell to the floor. Dudley, who was clutching a bloody nose, finally managed to get up and followed his father into the bathroom.

The first noises that could be heard were Dudley's screams, and Vernon's cries of, "Petunia! Petunia, what have you done!"

"Fuck…" Harry whispered, and went to get his things.

He was leaving.

------

A/N: Okay, so the lyrics totally didn't match, but if you've ever heard the song you know why it goes with what happened. If you haven't ever heard HIM, they're awesome! Look them up!


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Face to Face

_Fucking assholes. FUCKING COCKSUCKERS_.

Harry threw his things into his suitcase violently, knocking over a lamp. He hated them and everything they stood for. They let her fucking die. Fucking berks. _They should go to hell_.

He slammed his suitcase shut and zipped it forcefully. He could still hear the screams and cries of his relatives from the other room. They killed her. They're fucking guilty. Let them hang in front of the people, in front of the world. Let their balls be nailed to the wall. Harry laughed manically. Yes, that was the best solution.

"Goodbye, assholes!" he screamed at them as he strode out of the hallway. He was about to go down the stairs when Vernon seized him by the shoulders and forced him up against the wall.

"Listen, you little bastard," he breathed in Harry's face. His face was a worse purple than Harry had ever seen before. "You weren't the only one who loved her, and if you were a fucking man, you'd help bury her. By the lake." He added. His breathing was uneven. It seemed as though he'd rather stop breathing all together.

"Fine." Harry hissed. "Give me a fucking shovel."

Vernon reluctantly let him go, and they went to bury the dead as Dudley sat sobbing in the corner.

------

Draco was just heading out the door when Lucius stopped him.

"Draco." He called. His voice was dripping with contempt. Puzzled, Draco went to his father in the sitting room. He had a fire going even though it was almost eighty degrees outside.

"Father, why do you –"

"Sit down." Lucius interrupted him. Frowning, Draco sat.

Lucius didn't face him, but merely talked as if Draco was in flames, standing in the hearth.

"Where were you last night?"

Draco froze. His stomach seemed to have disappeared. "I was here in bed, Father. Why?"

His father calmly sipped a glass of wine that looked suspiciously like blood. His straw-like blonde hair was swept around his shoulders, and he was wearing leather gloves with green and black robes. "I don't know why you lie to me, Draco. After all, I am your father."

Draco blinked. "I'm not lying."

Lucius reared up, bearing his teeth, and hurled the wine goblet into the fire, causing the flames to climb up the chimney further. "Yes you are! I saw you with Potter! You…" But he lost his nerve; he couldn't say it. Draco suddenly stood up to face his father.

"You talk as if you don't do the same damn thing when Mother is away! You talk as if you don't try to do things to me! Nasty little family secret, isn't it?" Draco choked, winded. Lucius was breathing hard through his nose. His shoulders rose up and down, up and down.

"How dare you." He whispered viciously. "I've done nothing to you!"

Draco's rage got the better of him. He closed his eyes and punched through the glass on the coffee table. It shattered into a million pieces. He looked at his bloody knuckles, which had pieces of glass in them. But he really didn't give a good goddamn.

Lucius made to slap his son, but Draco ducked and got Lucius in the stomach. Lucius grunted, bending over, and eased himself to the ground. This gave Draco an opportunity to run.

He dashed outside and ran up to Harry's porch. He banged on the door repeatedly, but no one answered. Suddenly, someone grabbed his shoulder.

"Gaah!" he yelled, and let out a sigh of relief. "Jesus, Pansy, you scared the hell out of me."

She grinned. "Sorry, I couldn't help myself. What are you doing? And where'd you go last night? I thought we had plans." She slipped her arms around his waist, but he pulled away. She pouted in confusion.

"I just – some things came up." He said, crossing his arms over his chest. The glass in his knuckles stung. "Son of a bitch." He cursed.

"What happened to you hand?" she asked, grabbing it. He pushed her hand away.

"Nothing that's any of your concern." He answered matter-of-factly.

Pansy put her hands on her hips. "Draco, goddamit, why are you doing this to me?"

"Doing….what?"

"Being such a lameass! What's wrong with me? Don't you want me?" she asked quietly, as though she were on the verge of tears, but her eyes looked perfectly dry to Draco. He sighed.

"No, actually. No please go back inside and let me go on doing what I was doing."

"And just what were you doing?"

"Looking for Harry."

"You mean Potter."

"Yeah, that's right."

She stopped. "Was it so long ago that you despised him?"

"Yes, no please shut your stupid, fat mouth and leave me to my business!" he snapped. She looked hurt, but he only half regretted what he had said.

Now she did have tears in her eyes. "Faggot." She whispered, and ran back into the duplex.

_Women_, Draco thought, and went on looking for Harry.

------

Harry took off his shirt, which was soaked with his sweat. He threw it to the side. The hole was fairly large now, large enough for the body.

That's all it was now. A body. No longer his Aunt.

His eyes stung with tears, but he kept on digging.

"That's fine." Vernon said. He looked as pale as a ghost now, as opposed to the purple hue of his cheeks earlier. Vernon grabbed the body, which was wrapped in a white tablecloth, and handed it to Harry to place in the grave.

It was stiff, horribly stiff. Harry dropped it in shock and disgust, and turned around to heave. All that came up was bile. He spit in the far corner of the grave, and turned around weakly to straighten out the body.

_The body_.

When he was done, he knealt down and pulled back the tablecloth. He cringed. Harry saw that she was pale like her husband. Her eyes were still open, and he closed them for her. He was shaking, and holding back sobs. He bent over to kiss her forehead. As soon as his lips touched her icy skin, he let go, and the tears rolled down over his cheeks like they had when he first found her.

Still weeping, his climbed his way out of the grave and with his uncle's help, began filling it back up again. When they finished, Uncle Vernon left for the duplex without saying a word, his head hanging. Harry just sat upon the disturbed earth and listened to the dull ringing in his ears.

A gunshot came from the duplex. Harry hung his head.

"Not again. Not another fucking body."

No, he'd had enough. He grabbed his suitcase and made for the road, where he met Draco.

"Harry, I was looking for you –"

Harry held up his hand, and Draco fell silent.

"My aunt and possibly my uncle are dead. I dunno where the hell Dumbledore is, I don't even know if he got my letter. Fuck it, I'm leaving. You're welcome to come with." He spoke in a dead, hollow voice.

"Sorry." Draco cleared his throat awkwardly, looking down at his feet. "But I'll come with you."

"Good." Harry said, and they made for the gate. But a voice stopped them.

"Not so fast, Potter."

Voldemort was there, and all his death eaters stood behind him, including Lucius Malfoy.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Skimming Chance

"Well, Potter. We meet again. I must say, I'm a tad bit surprised to see you. It seems that Mr. Malfoy here," Voldemort nodded to Draco, "Didn't complete his task."

Draco's mouth dropped open, and Harry turned to gape at him incredulously. "You…you were supposed to kill me? Is that what this is about?"

"No, Harry, please listen to me. I know nothing of this. Nothing!" Draco's eyes pleaded innocence, and as Harry stared deep into their softened depths, he felt that he believed Draco. He nodded slowly, sweat running down his face in rivers, and turned back to face Voldemort. Hot anger boiled inside him as he noticed that behind Lucius' mask, he was smirking.

"For your incompetence, Draco, you will be punished." The Dark Lord said, fingering his wand. Lucius was grinning now.

_Sick bastard_, Draco through. _That fucker set me up_. Without hesitation, he reached for his wand.

"_Avada Kedevra!" _Draco screamed, and at exactly the same moment, Lucius shouted the same thing.

The spells collided and exploded with such force that everyone was thrown onto their backs. The blinding light of the impact was astounding. Harry felt dazed for a few seconds, light headed and stupid. For a moment he just lay there, immobile, but in his head, a connection was made yet again and he leapt to his feet.

"_Stupefy! Stupefy! Reducto! Incendio! Reducto!_" Harry shouted spells randomly at death eaters, who were haphazardly strewn across the earth. A fire began to burn and there were screams to be heard. Harry was in a panic. Voldemort was already on his feet, and walking towards him, holding his wand straight out like an accusatory index finger.

"_Avada Kedevra_!" Voldemort cried, his red eyes seeming to burn.

"_PROTEGO!_" Harry screamed with all his might, and the spell bounced off of the invisible shield he had placed in front of himself. "_Impervius_." He said, and temporarily wall erected itself in front of them.

"Come on Draco, we've got to make a run for it. There's no way we can take on all of them." Harry grabbed his shoulder. Draco's head lolled. Harry's heart seemed to fall into his stomach when he noticed Draco's silvery blonde hair was matted with fresh blood. It looked as though when they had all been thrown back by the spells, Draco's head had hit a rather large rock. Trying his best not to vomit, Harry managed to get Draco on his feet.

Green light whizzed past Harry's right cheek; he realized that the wall had fallen away. He tried to run, but Draco was not yet conscious enough to stand on his own legs. Suddenly, Harry got an idea.

"Draco…do you know how to Apparate?" Harry asked. He watched as a twinkle grew in Draco's eye.

"C-close your eyes, Harry…"

Almost at once, Harry slipped into blackness and felt the uneasy sensation of being forced through a tight, rubber tube. His lungs were being crushed, as were his ribs, he could not open his eyes –

Then, he heard a voice.

"Aha, look what we have here. I suppose young Draco thought that he might Apparate off the premises? It's a shame all that effort had to go to waste. This place is secured almost as tightly as Hogwarts." Voldemort spat the word out bitterly. "No one may Apparate off the premises, or fly here on broom."

Harry swallowed, his proud face chiseled in stone. He realized that this was the end of his life. Dumbledore would not come to save him this time, nor would anyone else. He raised his chin up and grasped Draco's hand in his. Most of the Death Eaters were laughing and whispering now, but he didn't care. His held his wand limply and readied himself for death.

"Ah, but Tom, I'm afraid you forgot one thing. _Portkeys_." A serene, wise voice floated up from behind. Harry almost didn't want to turn around for fear of disappointment. _It's an illusion, there's no way he could really be here, there's simply no way_, he thought to himself.

And still, he turned around.

There stood Albus Dumbledore, Minerva McGonagall, Remus Lupin, Molly and Arthur Weasley, and countless other members of the Order of the Phoenix. Harry was so overcome with gratitude and relief that he nearly started to cry. Attempting to swallow the boulder in his throat, he smiled happily at Dumbledore as he and the Order walked to stand alongside Harry and Draco. The Death Eaters stood dumbly in shocked silence, but Voldemort didn't look the least bit angry. Quite the contrary…he looked _amused_.

"Well, Dumbledore, you've done it again. Come to save Little Potter's skin, as always. Noble, perhaps, but undoubtedly foolish. I have grown stronger from the time we last met, and I now I will be able to ultimately defeat you." Voldemort drawled, smirking. Harry looked to Dumbledore, who was still smiling knowingly.

"Yes, Tom, but the last time we met, I did not have the _entire_ Order of the Phoenix to accompany me."

"You may not realize it, but that is actually your loss and my gain, for now I can kill you all at once."

"Then let us start." Dumbledore said, and almost all at once, everyone from both sides sprung into action.

Luckily, Draco was standing now and walking, because Harry noticed Bellatrix Lestrange hurtling towards him.

"Ah, ickle Potter! I shall kill you like I killed your dear God –"

But Harry didn't give her a chance. "_CRUCIO_!" All the anger, loathing, and malice that had built up over the summer came out in that one spell. Bellatrix shrieked in pain; her yellow teeth were bared, her gums and knuckles were white, and her eyes were squeezed tightly shut. She howled like a banshee, and Harry grinned sickly, glad to make her suffer as he had, as Sirius had; glad to make her pay. "_AVADA KEDEV_-"

"_STUPEFY_!" Narcissa's voice roared. Harry tumbled to the ground like a sack of potatoes. Draco, who had just killed Walden McNair, launched himself in front of hair.

"Don't you touch him, you stupid bitch!" He hissed, and her eyes protruded with fury.

"_STUPE_-"

"_AVADA KEDEVRA_!" Draco let out in a blood-curdling scream. Narcissa's eyes took on a glassy look of shock as she fell to the ground in a slow arc. She hit the earth with a dull thud, her long, perfect hair fanned out like a pillow beneath her. Draco began to sob softly, and all of sudden, everything went black.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Closure

When Harry awoke, he found he could not open his eyes, nor move his limbs. His first thought was, _Paralysis_? But after he found that he could move his fingers and toes, and also his neck and feet, he ruled out the possibility and blamed it on pure deep sleep.

_Where am I_? he wondered Harry's eyes were still being stubbornly lazy, so he felt what was beneath him with his fingertips. Soft cotton sheets and a wool comforter. Smiling a little, he found that he was awake enough to open his eyes now. The first thing he saw was a blurry Dumbledore, standing over his bed and apparently smiling at him.

"Professor?" Harry asked, groping for his glasses and sliding them on. "Where are we?"

"We're at the Romanian Medical Center. We were supposed to be back in London now, but far too many people were injured, so we're staying here until everything's sorted out." He explained breezily.

"Where's the Dursleys, and where's – oh my God, sir, where is Draco?" Harry exclaimed, sitting upright. Dumbledore gently pushed him back down into the mass of pillows.

"Draco is fine, Harry. He is being treated for a mild concussion as of now. And you, Harry. You're lucky you didn't _die_. That nasty wound on your back almost turned gangrenous. How did you acquire, that, anyways?" Dumbledore peered at him.

Harry rubbed the back of his neck. "Dudley through me into a potted plant…" He murmured, blushing. Dumbledore didn't seem to take any notice of his embarrassment. "What happened to him, anyways? He and Uncle Vernon?"

Dumbledore immediately looked uncomfortable. Despite all the feelings of hated and loathing that he had always associated with the Dursleys, his heart sank when he saw the look on Dumbledore's face.

He sighed. "Dudley recovered his father's gun, shot Vernon, and them himself. We arrived too late to save them, so we buried them beside Petunia near the lake. I'm very sorry, Harry."

Harry's face felt very hot all of a sudden. He found that he didn't want to talk about the Dursleys anymore. "Were there any other fatalities, sir?"

"Luckily, no. Not on our side, anyways. Plenty of Death Eaters died…Narcissa, McNair, Bellatrix, Nott, Ivory, Lucius –"

"But not Lord Voldemort himself?"

Dumbledore sighed again. "No. No, we did not manage to kill Lord Voldemort. But we have significantly weakened his forces. And I want you to know, Harry, I am proud of you for fighting as best you could. You and Draco both."

"Thanks." Harry mumbled. "Um, sir, is it alright if I go to see Draco?"

"I think that he's asleep, but yes, I'm sure that's quite alright." Dumbledore smiled encouragingly, and Harry, smiling back, went on his way. Suddenly, he realized he didn't know where Draco was. He went immediately back towards his room.

"Sir, do you –"

"Room 108, Harry."

"Thanks."

Harry set off again, grinning. He found Draco's room in about a minute; he was pleased to discover that it was not too far away from his own. He walked in to a pleasant surprise; Draco was awake.

"Draco," Harry said. He bent down and placed a passionate kiss on his lips, then ran his hand down the side of Draco's soft face. "Are you okay?"

"I'll be fine." He drawled. "Very minor concussion. What about you?"

"Just this stupid cut on my back, but I'll be okay too. I just can't believe…your parents are dead."

Draco's expression didn't change. "Yes, well. I'm quite relieved. Now I have Malfoy Manor all to myself. Although, I suspect it will get quite lonely…" He looked pointedly at Harry, who merely grinned.

"Are you inviting me to stay with you for the summer?" He asked, playing with Draco's fingers.

"I'm inviting you to stay as long as you wish." Draco smiled.

Harry sat in stunned, rapturous silence. "As long as I wish." He repeated to himself.

_As long as I wish_.


End file.
